Out of Tune
by rawrchelle
Summary: Sasuke/Sakura. AU. Like a spell, he spiraled into one of his own cliché romances.
1. E flat major

**summary:** Like a spell, he spiraled into one of his own cliché romances.

**notes:** I _know_ I said I wouldn't update until my exams were finished, but I found out last night that today was Sasuke's birthday and I absolutely couldn't miss it! -anime freak- This'll be approximately three chapters, excluding this prologue. I think. A short, plotless, fluffy romance. Sort of. :)

This'll be dedicated to xx. false - deception, because she's been there for me from the start. We both love writing, and we both love music. It works. (She has me on alerts, but I don't know if she'll even read it. Her loss. ;)

* * *

.**p**_r_ol**o**_g_ue— E-flat major

In the modern-day world, the most important thing in a good piece of writing was the perfect balance of being generic and being original. Not many were able to find this balance.

One of the few that had was Uchiha Sasuke.

This man was known for his enticing words written on paper of heartbreaking and breathtaking romances in the most unique ways. Perhaps a regular high school student going out with a senior, only to have been an undercover hitwoman to kill her boyfriend. Or an uptight businesswoman meeting a handsome man on the subway, only to find out that he was the son of the leader of the yakuza. They were all so cliché, but Uchiha Sasuke always managed to make it incredible.

But his next novel—what was it going to be about?

That was what Sasuke wanted to know, too.

**x**

The quirks of being a writer was that he could set his own work hours.

Sasuke sat for two hours straight, staring at the blaring screen of his laptop until the early morning.

Lawyers. Dancers. Swimmers. Police officers. He'd done it all. There was nothing more to write about.

He fell asleep to a blank document for the fifth night in a row.

**x**

A spark. That was all that was needed to start a fire.

All he needed was a tiny wisp of an idea, and there'd bound to be a new novel out within months.

He visited his local Starbucks with his laptop, a steaming black coffee with two creams and no sugar sitting beside it. He hadn't been here in weeks—he was too busy with family "get-togethers" (which were really just parties hosted by his family's corporation; Sasuke was the only one who had decided not to follow in their footsteps) and spending "quality time" with his self-proclaimed best friend, Uzumaki Naruto—but it felt nice to be in a familiar setting again.

Until something not so familiar happened.

The bell tinkled in the quiet coffee shop as a girl walked in with a guitar case in hand. She had light pink hair that caught everyone's attention—Sasuke's included. She marched right up to the cashier and said a few quiet words. The cashier headed to the back of the shop, and a minute later, Hyuuga Hinata, who Sasuke knew as the manager, came out. The two women spoke a few words before the pink-haired woman pulled over a chair from an empty table, set down her guitar case, and opened it.

It was one of the oddest things Sasuke had ever seen. He had come across a fair number of guitarists in his life—most of them assertive, obnoxious bastards—but this girl was just…_weird_.

(It wasn't often that he couldn't find the right word to describe something, and it unnerved him.)

He wasn't knowledgeable when it came to guitars—or music in general, really—so he had no idea what the girl was doing when she plucked each string on her guitar with a pick and turned certain pegs at the end of the…handle thing. But then her left hand moved over the handle and her fingers pressed the strings with familiarity and she began to play.

Sasuke had no idea what she was doing. Because, really, who the hell randomly played the guitar in Starbucks?

He was surprised when he recognized the song. It was one of his favorites back when he was a child.

When that was done, she launched into another song—jazzier, less mellow—and smiled when the people within the coffee shop applauded her performance. She played a number of songs—none of which were popular—and Sasuke turned back to his laptop and drank his coffee, hoping the new background music would stir up some ideas in his mind.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. Finally, the sound of the guitar and the woman's voice stopped, and he turned around, breath hitching.

Her music didn't stir up ideas. But _she_ did.

She was packing up when he strode up to her, business card at the ready.

"Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm Uchiha Sasuke." She was bent over, placing her pick and whatnot back in its proper spot in her case, and she looked up at him, messily tucking a lock of pink hair behind her ear.

"Hi," she said, smiling. "I'm Haruno Sakura." She straightened up and accepted his card, shaking his hand. Then she paused, and blinked.

Sasuke blinked, too.

"Wait." After another moment, her eyes widened. "You're Uchiha Sasuke!"

"Yes," he said uncertainly. "I believe that's what I said just moments prior."

Her grin widened. "You're one of my favorite authors," she explained to him excitedly. (At this, he reconsidered his decision—because he certainly didn't want to spend too much time with an overenthusiastic fan—but this opportunity was too good to pass, so he brushed it off.) "Can I have an autograph?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Is that necessary?"

Her brow furrowed, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I would like you to be the main character of my next novel," he said, voice clipped and business-like. "Provided, of course, that you have the time and patience."

If possible, her eyes seemed to bulge out of their eye sockets. "Are you _serious_?" she asked, flabbergasted. "I'd be—I'd be _honored_!"

"I'm glad you feel that way."

Actually, Sasuke wasn't feeling too shabby himself anymore, either. After nearly two weeks of not finding a new inspiration, it tended to be rather frustrating. Writing was his way of expressing himself, because, even he had to admit, he had a lack of human contact. It wasn't healthy, but it wasn't as if he was going to do anything about it.

When Sakura's guitar was packed and she held the case in her hand, she was grinning brightly. "I never thought I'd ever meet you in person—I mean, you never hold autographing functions, and rumors are that you rarely go out, too. I'm—I'm excited. I'm sorry." Sasuke frowned. She'd better not get too annoying, or else he'll just have to make up her character.

"Do you have some time?" He gestured towards his laptop at his lonely table. "I'd like to discuss how this will work."

She checked her watch. "Yeah, I think I'm free for the next little while."

He smirked. "Good."

**x**

After typing for a moment on his laptop, Sasuke looked at Sakura. "Let me confirm this," he said. "Your name is Haruno Sakura, you're twenty-four, pink is your natural hair color, and you like umeboshi onigiri. You're studying to become a doctor, but you enjoy playing music on the side."

"That's pretty much it." She sipped at her Strawberries and Cream frappuccino happily. "And I like sweets."

He added that to his notes.

"And what about you?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. "You know about me, but I only know you by name. Introduce yourself."

"My character is not necessary in the book."

"I feel uncomfortable working with someone I don't know." Sakura frowned. He couldn't help but notice the way her bottom lip pouted—it'd prove to be important information later. Being observant was one of his fortes. "C'mon. Tell me about yourself."

He scowled. "I'm Uchiha Sasuke. I'm twenty-three."

"You're _twenty-three_? You look so—so old!" He glared at her. "Oh. Sorry. Please continue."

"I like tomatoes," he finished stiffly. This girl had a loud mouth—almost as bad as Naruto. _Only for a couple of months,_ he told himself. Until his novel was finished—then he'd be finished with her, too.

"Really," she said incredulously.

"Really."

"Tomatoes are disgusting."

"I find that highly offensive."

She giggled, leaning back in her seat. He cocked an eyebrow, but she just shook her head. "You're interesting, Sasuke-san. I'm looking forward to working with you."

He was tempted to frown again, because he wasn't all that excited.


	2. G major

**notes:** did anyone see the meteor shower? because i didn't. :( uhm, by the way, to those who are expecting some intense plot in this—don't. you won't find it.

and the youtube song mentioned is by gabe bondoc. amazingness in a video, if i do say so myself.

* * *

.**c**_h_ap**t**_e_r o**n**_e_— G major

"Wow, this place is gorgeous," Sakura said as Sasuke let her into his penthouse. "You really do earn from your books, don't you?"

He grunted. "I earn enough." He gestured towards his laptop sitting on his couch. "I have the general plot and the beginning down. I'd like your thoughts. I would also appreciate it if you pointed out any flaws or differences between you and the character."

"Wow, you're so picky." He headed into the kitchen to make some drinks. "Is this what makes all of your stuff bestsellers?"

"If I told you my secret, you'd be earning millions, too."

He glanced over at Sakura, where she made herself comfortable in the bend of the couch. Her eyes skimmed the screen, almost in an analytical way.

Odd girl.

He mixed some iced tea powder with water and added ice in two glasses. After a moment of thinking, he plopped two extra cubes of sugar into Sakura's glass. As another afterthought, he fetched some lemon slices from his fridge and added one to each glass.

Uchiha Sasuke was a perfectionist, after all.

"Thanks," the pink-haired woman said without even looking at him, accepting her iced tea and sipping thoughtfully through the straw. "Mm. The sugar hasn't melted yet."

"Hn."

Sasuke sat beside her, placing his glass on the coffee table after drinking from it. Sakura was one of the strangest (_And only,_ he could hear Naruto's voice snickering in his head) girls he'd met—with, perhaps, the exception of Karin, one of his managers of his publishing company. Her attention was caught and distracted by the oddest things—

"Sasuke-san, why is your font _Times New Roman_? That has got to be the ugliest font to have ever existed."

"It's the default font."

"So you should change it! Don't you think it's ugly?"

"I would appreciate it if you'd concentrate on the contents of the text, and not the way it's presented to you."

"Oh, I finished reading already." His eyes locked with hers, his expression unmoving. She was a fast reader. Certainly above average.

"And your thoughts?" The most important asset to his writing was the uniqueness of every main character, every personality, every tone to each of his novels. In this book, he was determined to have Sakura's essence imprinted all over it.

She thought for a moment. "Well. It's great that you see me this way, but I think I'm too…perfect."

A frown grew on his lips. "Explain."

"Sasuke-san, seriously. When you look at me, do you honestly think 'soft, plump lips', 'long, pink tresses' and 'shining emerald orbs'?" She laughed. "Who even uses the word _orbs_ to describe eyes?"

The frown deepened. "I do."

"Somehow, it sounds less ridiculous when it's not about me. Please don't make a Mary Sue out of me when I am clearly not perfect."

"I'm impressed with your terminology."

She shrugged. "I researched it last night. Figured I should be on the same ground as you."

"I see." He was feeling restless and his fingers wanted to move along the keyboard of his laptop. The entire feel of this new book would be completely different from his previous works—because Sakura was so different. She was the first among all of his main characters to tell him to not make her perfect.

Despite his cool demeanor, he was incredibly excited.

"I understand that you have medical school and you schedule is rather tight," he said, taking the laptop back from her, "but I hope that I'm able to spend more time with you. I'd like to have a firmer grasp of your personality."

Sakura grinned, and he took note of the subtle dimples. "I'd love to! You're my favorite author, after all. And you're not as much as an uptight guy as I thought you were." She wrinkled her nose. "But you still need to work on that stick up your ass."

"I find it necessary to point out that there is nothing up my ass that holds any resemblance to a stick."

"Just loosen up, Sasuke-san. All I'm saying."

He rolled his eyes, drinking his iced tea.

Odd girl.

**x**

"Man, I wish I could write like you."

"You don't."

"What makes you think that?"

"My words constantly feel heavy to me when I go back and reread them, but it's the only way I've ever known how to write. It's why, as you say, I have a stick up my ass."

"Then just chill a bit. Y'know, add a little humor to it. A new flair. You'd be able to do that." They were at her apartment, her strumming away aimlessly at her guitar while doing homework. (How she managed that, Sasuke had yet to find out.)

"And how do you suggest I 'chill'?"

She shrugged. "Do something that'll loosen you up—in mind and body. I'd suggest music, but you don't seem like the musical type."

He'd rather not embarrass himself. "I hold no interest towards these things."

"Why don't you try? Actually—here." Rolling over to him in her chair, she pulled his laptop out of his hands and gave him her guitar. "Try it."

His lips set into a scowl. "I'd rather not, thank you." The object felt foreign in his hands, not belonging. Delicate, even. The way Sakura's fingers moved over it seemed so natural, but he was sure his movements would be clumpy and graceless.

"No, try. Everyone's a beginner at some point." She got off her chair and rounded behind him, handing him the pick in the process. He was sitting in a stool because of the lack of other chairs near her desk—not the most comfortable while typing on a laptop, but he wasn't going to complain. "Just put your hand here—yeah. Don't press any strings. And with your right hand, just…strum."

The note of each string clashed in a slight dissonance. But nevertheless, Sasuke felt a little…accomplished. Proud.

(Uchiha blood flowed in his veins, no matter how much he denied it.)

"Here." Her hands ran over his left hand, where he was holding the neck of the guitar. (Not the handle part, but the neck. He had learnt since then.) She arranged his fingers in a strange pattern across the strings and frets. "Now press those fingers down, and strum." He did. It sounded…better.

Screw that—it sounded _good_.

"That's a C chord," she told him, smiling and sitting back in her chair. "Remember that. I'll teach you more—then soon, you can play songs, too. Chords are the basis of everything on the guitar."

"Did you teach yourself?" he asked idly as he strummed this peculiar C chord over and over again. Each string at a time, and then altogether. The way music worked was beyond him.

"I took lessons when in high school—then I just continued by myself. But it's so much easier once you learn music theory. Then you can make your own covers and stuff." He got confused about halfway through, but he pretended like he understood.

What were covers? You could make covers with music theory?

"Actually—look at this." With quick fingers, she went onto YouTube on his laptop and searched for something. "Listen to this guy. _Listen._"

The video began with a man saying hello and doing a brief explanation of the song—it being a duet, he was going to sing one part and allow the watcher to sing along to the other part and post a response, if he or she wanted to. It was of Aladdin's _A Whole New World_—

Hm. Sasuke was actually kind of impressed. He was pretty good for someone on YouTube.

Much to his horror and embarrassment, when it came for Princess Jasmine to sing, Sakura actually opened her mouth and sang the part. Sasuke averted his gaze, not sure of where to look. Was he supposed to be listening? She was so awkward.

"Yeah, anyway." She laughed. "You fill in for my part, Sasuke-san. I'm going to the bathroom."

When she left the room, he stared at the singing person on the screen stubbornly. He wasn't going to sing along.

The lyrics appeared in the annotations, screaming at him. The guy was just playing his guitar, smiling and all—

Okay, maybe he'd mumble the part. He wasn't going to _sing_ it—it was the princess' part, after all. And he wasn't going to be seen singing the part of a princess. The person's voice was just rather…inviting, was all.

Screw that. He wasn't singing.

Disgruntled, and even a little frustrated that he temporarily lost his control over his intelligent thoughts, Sasuke promptly closed the window and returned to his novel-in-the-making.

"Aw, so you _do_ have an ounce of music in you!" He whipped his head around, eyes narrowing when he saw Sakura leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smug look spread across her features. "What do you know. Let's do a duet one day—I'll play and you'll sing."

"The chances of that happening is highly unlikely," he said, forcing himself to face his laptop again. He couldn't afford an argument with her right now, when his profit was at stake. "Has your mother ever taught you that eavesdropping is rude?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," she said lightly as she sat down in her chair again, shrugging. "I needed to go to the bathroom, changed my mind halfway there, and came back, only to stumble upon a surprise." She stuck her tongue out at him. How immature. "And anyway, my mother never taught me anything."

He raised an eyebrow, not even looking at her as he typed away. "Really."

"Really."

"Do explain. Please don't forget that anything you say can be distributed to the general public."

"I don't really appreciate having my overly personal stuff written in that book of yours."

"I haven't forgotten to add that this is a work of fiction, and therefore, any resemblance to any real person, alive or dead, is purely coincidental."

"Authors always put that, but everyone knows that it's bullshit."

"Really."

"Really."

**x**

"It's pretty old," Sakura said, pulling a battered, ancient-looking guitar case out of her closet, "but once we change the strings, it'll be usable."

Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets. "Please remind me again why we're doing this?"

"Because every time I see you, you're writing that stupid book of yours. You need to other things too."

"And you need to put down your damn guitar."

"What do you think I'm doing in med school?" She shot him a playful look, grabbing his arm and dragging him into her living room, where her guitar was sitting on the couch. She plopped down beside it and opened the case in her hands. "This was my first guitar, so please refrain from killing it more than it already has been killed."

"I'll do my best," he responded dryly. He watched Sakura pull a pack of strings out and change the guitar's strings with skilled hands.

She never ceased to remind him that she was one of the strangest girls he'd ever met.

It took nearly ten minutes for Sasuke to tune the guitar, because his ears weren't accustomed to matching pitches. Finally, Sakura let out a sign of exasperation. "Play a C chord."

He felt the tips of his ears reddening a little when it took him ten times longer for his fingers to settle into the proper formation than for her fingers to do the same thing. When he strummed, and she strummed right after, he looked at her. She had an eyebrow raised.

"Did you notice the difference?"

"Yours sounded better," he pointed out. "You must've really done a number on this guitar."

"No." She rolled her eyes. "You're just a little tone deaf. But whatever—it's good enough. Take it home with you later and practice tuning it. The strings are new, anyway—they'll be constantly flatten themselves you wear them in."

"I hope you realize that I have better things to do than to constantly tune a guitar."

"Shut up, Sasuke-san. God knows you're not getting a life anytime soon, so this is the next best thing. I'll teach you how to read tabs today."

"I have a book to write."

"Get over it."

**x**

When writing, Sasuke often paired his main character with someone he knew—just so the antagonist's personality was familiar to him as well. When he wrote about Hyuuga Hinata, the manager of his local Starbucks, she was (pitifully) paired with Uzumaki Naruto. His brother was paired with one of his male friends. (Yes, he had written homosexual books. Yes, they were socially accepted. No, he wasn't gay.)

These things just _worked_ in his head.

But he had no idea who Haruno Sakura should be with. He wasn't one for making his own characters; they proved to either have an inferiority or superiority complex.

"You're being a matchmaker on the side, you know," Naruto said when Sasuke voiced out his problems. "It turns out Hinata's had a crush on me ever since she met me. And I've seen your brother and his blue friend…y'know. Going at it in an alley once. Wasn't pretty."

"I don't particularly care for anyone's love life." He took a drink of his black coffee.

"Oi." The blonde swiped the laptop from him and turned it around so he could scroll through Sakura's character profile. "Y'know, I think she wouldn't be too bad paired with _you_."

Sasuke would've choked on his own spit, but he had far too much dignity to do that. "Shouldn't there be a limit to your moronic ideas?"

"No, man. I mean, think about it." Naruto's sky-blue eyes were intent. "She's all happy and cheerful and all—and you're not." Sasuke scowled. "She teaches you guitar and you actually _listen_ to her. She's able to handle your stifling"—"Where did you learn that word?"—"shut up—company. And you tolerate how annoying you say she is. And _look_ at the way you described her! 'Soft, plump lips'? How do you even know her lips are soft?"

"For your information, none of my main characters have ever been ugly," Sasuke pointed out, ignoring the latter part. "I have used similar descriptions in my other books as well."

"Whatever, teme." Naruto pushed the laptop back across the table towards him. "You asked me—I answered. I don't care if you don't take my advice."

Pairing himself with Sakura? Of course not.

But despite himself, the idea was rather tempting.

**x**

It was mid-December, and they'd taken a habit to spend their weekends together at Sakura's apartment. She liked to wear sweats, fuzzy socks and a t-shirt, and he liked to wear jeans and a sweater. Sakura would sometimes make tea, or hot chocolate—even though she always drank his cup of hot chocolate too, because he wasn't fond of sweets.

Often, they'd sit on the couch with the television on, even though neither was watching it. She'd be reading her medical textbook for fun, or studying for an exam, and he'd be typing away at his laptop.

It was a quiet, peaceful equilibrium that he couldn't get enough of.

"Hey, Sasuke, let's go to the park." However, when she opened that loud mouth of hers, it was an entirely different story. She was the most annoying brat ever.

"No."

"Why not?" Shutting her book, she scooted closer to him on the couch, until their arms were touching. She leaned against him, looking up at him with earnest eyes. "I love going outside when it's snowing like it is now. It's so, I don't know—tranquil."

It was snowing lightly outside right now, but he really couldn't give a damn about it. "It's cold."

"Then throw on some layers, dumbass. I'm going to change, okay?"

"Hn."

As she disappeared into her room, Sasuke ran a hand through his hair. He was going to keep it from Naruto for as long as he could, but he decided to use himself as the antagonist in his own novel. He changed his name, of course, and his appearances by a little, but overall, his personality was the same. The predicament was that he couldn't get a move on with the plot. He found himself writing useless scenes that contained nothing but romance. Romance was always the secondary genre in his works—but this useless _shit_—

(Also known as _fluff_, some obnoxious voice in the back of his head told him.)

He would delete anything that proved useless to his book, but he couldn't find it in himself to highlight said scenes and press the backspace button.

Sakura reemerged from her room, wearing pink socks, jeans, and a green turtleneck sweater that matched her (bright, bright, _bright_) eyes. "C'mon, Sasuke. You need a break." She snatched the laptop from his hands, shut it and placed it on the coffee table before yanking him by his arm onto his feet.

He grunted stubbornly when she dragged him to the front door and pulled his coat from the closet. "Don't be such a child."

"You're the one who wants to go to the park."

"Shut it. It's for your own good." She pulled on a white toque, and Sasuke took note of how she looked, imprinting the image in his mind. He'd use it for later. (He couldn't help but also notice how it accentuated her eyes and her natural innocence. Even though said innocence wasn't displayed even once during the time he spent with her.)

Realizing a little too late that he probably couldn't defy her and her horrific female strength, he slipped into his black coat, albeit stubbornly and bitterly. "This is a waste of time."

"This is going to be _fun_."

There was no wind when they stepped outside, the snowflakes drifting to the ground at a lazy pace. Sakura stuck out her tongue and caught some of them in glee.

"That's actually just as insanitary as eating snow off the ground," he told her out of spite. "The atmosphere and air is filled with chemicals that could be harmful to your body if consumed in large amounts."

"Don't rain on my parade. A couple of snowflakes are a large amount?" She mock-glared at him. "I'm studying to be a doctor. Don't think I don't know."

As they walked along the sidewalk, Sakura told him about her fellow classmates and teachers at medical school. She ranted about a girl named Ino who started one year after her, but was still arrogant and acted like a pig. Sasuke wondered with amusement if she was talking about Yamanaka Ino, the one who had something going with Shikamaru.

"I also have a senpai," she told him, almost dreamily. "His name is Hyuuga Neji." His eyes narrowed. Hyuuga Hinata's cousin. He sure knew a lot of people from the medical field.

"He's a prick who needs to loosen up."

She rolled her eyes. "The same could be said about you. Neji's nice, once you get to know him—kind of like you, I suppose."

"Don't compare me to him."

"And believe it or not, he's pretty modest. Outside of school, he doesn't brag about his intelligence or anything. His hair is nice, too. I wish I had hair like him. I'm jealous of Tenten; they're so close—"

"I'm sorry to rain on your parade," he said, mocking her from before, "but we've arrived at the park that you desperately wanted to go to."

She blinked. He noticed that a snowflake had found a place to sit on her eyelashes. "Oh." And with that, she turned away from him and jogged to the swings.

The park was devoid of any other people, and Sasuke found that understandable. He wouldn't be out either, if not for a certain pink-haired girl. Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, he followed her at a slower pace, watching her brush the snow off of the swing with the sleeve of her coat before she sat on it, swinging idly. "Will you push me, Sasuke?"

"No."

"Party pooper." She glared at him with those bright eyes, and after a short glaring contest, he sighed exasperatedly.

"You're such a child." But, nevertheless, he went behind her and gave her a little push. When she swung back to him, he pushed her again. This was such a waste of time. He could be doing much more productive things on his laptop.

She giggled and swung her legs unnecessarily as she swung back and forth, causing her to spin in awkward directions and making it difficult for Sasuke to push her. "You make me smile."

The words caused unnecessary feelings to bubble in his stomach.

"Being a medical student, don't you think you should be more mature?"

"Being a human in the slowly dying world, don't you think you should live a little? I mean, you write about that all the time. Running along train tracks, ringing doorbells and running off, lying in the forest for a day and not caring about the world—you know, that kind of stuff. Funny how you'd write about it, but you wouldn't actually do it. Is it a fantasy or something?"

"No," he responded breezily, moving aside and leaning against one of the poles supporting the swings when he decided that she could continue swinging on her own. "This is just the world's view on what love is. I merely replicate that to make a profit."

"Lame," she said loudly as she passed him to swing forward. "Love is a beautiful thing, Sasuke."

"I don't feel a need for it." His own words made him scowl. He didn't feel a need for it, and yet, here he was, at a park in the middle of winter with a mere _girl_.

Sasuke wasn't stupid. He wrote romance novels for a living. It was blatantly obvious he was growing attached to her.

Scowling deeper, he crossed his arms.

"I think love would make you a happier person. I'd like to see you smile once in a while. In the months I've known you, all your lips have done was frown and scowl. It's quite unattractive, actually."

"Hn."

Sasuke was only beginning to fear himself when he actually contemplated the idea of smiling.

They passed a minute or two in silence; Sakura, swinging, and Sasuke, leaning against the pole with his arms crossed, a frown set permanently on his thin lips.

"You're boring," Sakura finally said as she stopped propelling herself forwards and backwards on the swing. "What do you want to do?"

"Go back." He watched her swing lower and lower, until she was only swinging at a medium height. Right at the peak of moving forward, she leapt off the swing and landed clumsily on her feet before falling onto her behind.

"Ow…" He raised his eyebrow at the girl who looked like she was in a fix. "Sasuke, the ground is cold!"

"I wouldn't have guessed. Get up."

"Help me up?"

He vaguely wondered what kind of independent woman wouldn't be able to get off her ass on a winter day, before he answered his own question. Sighing wearily, he uncrossed his arms and headed to her. When he offered his hand to her, a smile spread across her lips, making her originally bright eyes even brighter. Her cold fingers pressed against his skin when she grasped his hand.

"So, you wanted to go back?" He let go of her hand, but she linked arms with him, grinning. He felt the tips of his ears reddening—but they were already red from the cold anyway, he told himself defiantly.

"It would be appreciated."

"All right, then."

Surprised at her sudden willingness to comply, he didn't even shrug her off his arm.

(Not that he particularly wanted to.)

He fought the smile that was so persistent to appear on his lips. (Because he definitely wasn't going to have her say something like "Your smile is _way_ more attractive than your scowl. Do it more often.")

That night, when he went home, he wrote more fluff about the park on chilly winter afternoons.

**x**

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were the one that I'm falling in love with in his book."

"Hn."

"Wow, so even you have hormones. I'm getting it on with this guy."

Pause.

"Hn."


	3. b minor

**notes:** i'm so excited! i signed up for an lj christmas thing, so i'm already writing my christmas fic for you guys! and of course, it's sasusaku. :) what else?

* * *

.**c**_h_ap**t**_e_r t**w**_o_— b minor

He could see the way she looked at him. It was akin to the way other women often looked at him, even if they didn't know who he was.

Because he was Uchiha Sasuke, of course. Intelligent, quiet, mysterious—and inevitably gorgeous.

It took him longer than anticipated for him to finish the first stage of the novel-writing process. After finally finished with writing it, he had to go back, delete things, add things, and edit. Then he'd send it to other editors, they'd edit and send it back to him, which he would then read again and make the necessary changes. The process was then repeated. It was tiring.

In total, it took two years for his newest novel, _Out of Tune_ to be published. Needless to say, though, he could live until he was forty off of the sales. It was the most popular out of all of his works—although he didn't see what was so special about it.

He only saw what was so special about the person his main character was based off of.

He had spent two years with this woman. Two years with this odd, crazy woman who liked going to the parks in the winter, reading medical textbooks and performing at Starbucks during her spare time.

As impossible as it was, he felt inseparable with her.

He was with her when she graduated from medical school. She was with him when he got into one of the nastiest arguments with Naruto that ever existed in the history of their friendship. They were together when the city experienced a power outage that lasted for the majority of the night. (Because, of course, Sasuke didn't trust Sakura to get home safely by herself.)

Sasuke felt like his life was turning into one of those stupid romance stories, but that was just the sad truth.

"Mm, say, Sasuke," Sakura said, scooting closer to him on the couch so they could be considered cuddling, "Let's perform a couple of duets. We haven't done that in a while."

From time to time, they'd go to the nearest Starbucks and perform. Sometimes, he'd play what he could on the guitar, and she'd sing. Sometimes, they'd play together. Most of the time, he was the one singing (although it took a long time before Sakura was able to convince him to do it the first time).

"Shouldn't you be working on that report?" he asked, trying to ignore her warmth beside him. (Trying to.)

"I've been doing that all day. I need to stretch my limbs."

He sighed. "Fine." His soft spot for this girl was growing by the day. It was sickening.

"So what do we play today?"

"I don't particularly care."

"Let's play some love songs!"

"Whatever."

He could see the way she looked at him. And he could see that these stupid, ridiculous feelings of his were reciprocated.

But Sasuke was never one for relationships or romance, and he wasn't about to start just because he was tempted to. Although love worked well in his books, it didn't work well in his life. And he wasn't going to drag Sakura into it.

After picking up her guitar and running a brush through her hair, they left her apartment (that Sasuke had discovered a couple of months prior that it was almost like his second home).

He was in a dilemma, Sasuke was.

"Let's make a playlist first." After settling in their familiar seats at Starbucks, Sakura pulled out her iPod. "Go 'hn' if you can sing it, and 'hn' if you can't."

"Hn."

"_You and Me_ by Lifehouse."

"Hn."

"_Wonderwall_ by Oasis."

"Hn."

"_Check Yes Juliet_ by We the Kings."

"Hn."

"_Yellow_ by Coldplay."

"What is it with you and love songs?"

She laughed. "I don't know. I think they just fill that empty place in my heart where my love life should be. Oh, and by the way"—she began to unpack her guitar after slipping her iPod back into her pocket—"I couldn't tell what each of your 'hn's meant."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, no, yes. But bring it down a little bit for _Yellow_; I can't sing that high."

She giggled. "Okay."

As strange as it was, these were the moments that he loved most. Not when she sat close to him while watching television or reading her textbook, or when she was teaching him guitar and her fingers brushed his, or even when she fed him a spoonful of her ice cream. It was being with her, doing something that she loved doing. Watching her having the time of her life, and knowing that he was one of the reasons why she was smiling.

He needed to stop bringing the cheesiness from his books into his actual life. It was shameful.

After a quick tuning, she shot him one of those smiles that made his heart beat even quicker. Thank God he didn't blush obviously; only the tips of his ears went red—and sometimes the back of his neck, if he was incredibly embarrassed. But that rarely happened anyway.

As she played and he sang probably some of the most famous love songs of all time, they attracted more customers—females, really. A smirk involuntarily pulled at his lips at this as they all eyed them. As they watched how, Uchiha Sasuke, the antisocial, legendary author, was having the time of his life.

There was nowhere else he'd rather be.

**x**

"I'm being offered a lot of press conferences lately," Sasuke said idly, watching her play randomly on her guitar. (She'd been trying songwriting lately, although it wasn't going so well.)

"Not like it matters, since you're going to decline all of them."

"I've actually been thinking of arranging one." He picked at his fingernails for the sake of something to do. "It'll be about _Out of Tune_, and since it's my most popular book, it'll be advantageous towards me."

"Mm. Then do it."

"I want you to come with me."

She looked up from her guitar, raising an eyebrow amusedly. "You want me to come with you?"

"Yes."

"And why's that? Little Sasuke-kun's too afraid of taking on a couple of reporters and flashing cameras?" she teased. Sasuke was almost positive that he had passed on his sadistic nature onto her, because when he first met her, she would've never said anything like that.

"The main character is based off of you." He rolled his eyes. "It's only natural that they'd want to interview you, too." He wasn't going to tell her that in reality, he just wanted another reason to be with her. Ever since his book was published, there had been this creeping fear at the back of his mind, where Sakura would cut all contact with him, because they had no reason to see each other anymore. He needed those reasons. He took every chance he got.

"Oh." Her strumming quieted a little. "Well, that's okay then…I suppose. I'm not really used to speaking in front of large audiences, though."

"And I am?" He met her uneasy smile with a smirk. "If you stutter over your words, I'll kick you under the table."

"The same goes for you, Mr. Uchiha."

**x**

Once, while at the mall together, they saw a performer.

He was a man, perhaps in his late forties, early fifties. He was playing an old, battered looking guitar, singing with a rough voice, reminding Sasuke of country artists. The tune he was playing was unrecognizable to him, but it was slow and soft. Much to his surprise, there were a few couples dancing two it.

"Hey, Sasuke, let's dance too." Sakura tugged at his arm. "They look like they're having fun."

"Most likely because they're actually dancing with their significant other."

"Maybe some of them are friends, just like us. You never know." She grinned impishly. "Or are you saying you're just as bad at slow dancing as you are at guitar?"

He scowled. "Nonsense. As an Uchiha, I am trained in everything formal." He glanced at the dancing couples. "And that's not even considered dancing. It's a pathetic excuse for cuddling while standing." Just looking at them gave him the slight urge to vomit.

"Yeah, well," she retorted indignantly, "I _like_ that pathetic excuse for cuddling."

He quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "So you want to cuddle with me."

Her cheeks flushed. "I-Is that a problem?" she muttered, her gaze falling to their feet. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but he wouldn't allow it, so he turned it into a smirk.

"Not at all." Walking backwards closer to the performer and the dancing couples, he bowed and held out a hand. "May I have this pathetic excuse for cuddling?" Her giggle was like music to his ears when she took his hand. Straightening up, his hands settled onto her waist while her arms wrapped around his neck. Her body pressed close to his, and he tried, _tried_ to ignore the way his heartbeat sped up, and the way he felt the tips of his ears getting hot.

She was too much. Sakura was always too much.

"Y'know, I wouldn't do this with anyone else in this situation." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "So you'd better feel special."

"I wouldn't do this with anyone at all. Do _you_ feel special?" He caught a faint whiff of her shampoo; it smelt like a mix of cherry blossoms and strawberries. Odd—just like her—but pleasant—just like her.

"Whatever." But he could hear that pleased smile in her voice.

They stood there, swaying to the beat—

Cuddling.

**x**

Yamanaka Ino, Sasuke learned, was a unique, but typical girl.

It was Sakura's birthday, and her best friend had offered to have the party at her house, since she lived in an apartment. Sasuke wasn't sure why he was even a part of this; Naruto and Sakura were the only two he was willing to talk to.

"You should've been at her sweet sixteen." Naruto grinned. "It was crazy."

"The police ended up coming and arresting us for the night because there was alcohol," Shikamaru added lazily.

"Hey, at least you had parents to get pissed at you!"

"My mom went crazy. My dad pat me on the back and said I did a good job."

This year's birthday party was a little more civilized. There was champagne and wine on the refreshment table, as well as juice and a punch bowl that he didn't doubt was spiked. (After years of knowing Naruto, he found that the blonde had an attraction towards bowls of drinks and putting something hazardous in it.) Near the corner of the yard, there was a pit to light a fire. They were roasting s'mores right now.

"Stop wasting the marshmallows, Forehead." Sakura was only roasting and eating the marshmallows, leaving the chocolate and graham crackers for the others. Sasuke's hands were empty; he didn't like sweets.

"I have to eat Sasuke's share, too," the pink-haired girl argued. "Look. He's not eating anything." As if to emphasize what she said, she leaned against him for a moment so their arms were pressed together. He grunted.

"Here, eat some chocolate too." Ino grabbed a chunk of chocolate and shoved it into Sakura's mouth.

"What the hell, Pig!" Sakura turned towards Sasuke pouting and mouth stuffed with chocolate. "She's bullying me, Sasuke!" Her voice was muffled.

He scoffed. "Swallow before you speak. You're being unattractive."

"Oh, so you think she's attractive if she isn't eating chocolate?"

"Don't shove words in my mouth, Yamanaka."

"Tsk. Denial."

The fire was warm—hot, even, against his bare legs. He felt even warmer because Sakura was leaning against him comfortably. Sasuke was new to these kinds of things—expressing intimacy and the sort—but he supposed he could give it a shot, without being disturbingly out of character.

(Yes, he used these terms on himself. It became a habit after finishing that blasted book.)

"I think it's time for presents!" Naruto announced, fingers sticky with marshmallows and chocolate. "What do you say, Sakura-chan?"

"Um, sure," she said, straightening up. "Let's go." The small crowd headed inside, where the presents were stacked. There weren't many—the only people attending the party were Ino, Shikamaru, Naruto and Sasuke—but there were enough packages to look homey.

"Open mine first!" Naruto shoved his messily wrapped gift in Sakura's face. She laughed—it was a laugh that Sasuke had grown to like—as she took it. There were chocolate fingerprints on it.

"Uh—Naruto, what _is_ this?" She brought out a piece of green string. Or—as Sasuke speculated it, it looked more and more like—

"A swimsuit, obviously!"

The tips of Sasuke's ears flared, and he looked away. That stupid, stupid moron—

Ino let out a low whistle. "Smooth, Naruto. I actually have a hot tub that's made to fit ten people. Would you guys like to—"

"No!" Sakura exclaimed, cheeks turning many shades darker than what was possibly humane.

"With that thing in her hand, it sounds like you're suggesting an orgy, or something."

"Not appreciated, Shikamaru!"

Sasuke's lips involuntarily pulled into a faint smirk, and he fought to hide it. Orgy with Sakura, huh—

"Open mine next, Forehead!"

A sparkling, pale blue bag was then placed in front of her. She smiled fondly, as if there was some meaning behind it. "If it's something ridiculous like last year…"

"No black lace lingerie this time, I promise."

Sasuke wondered how Sakura would look in black lingerie…

"Wow, it's something normal this time." Sakura pulled some white fabric out of the bag, which revealed itself to be a plain summer dress with spaghetti straps. It'd look good on Sakura, but he took care to not say it. Her loud mouth was contagious; ever since he met her, he was speaking more and more. "Thanks, Ino." The two girls hugged—something that apparently didn't happen very often, because Naruto and Shikamaru looked absolutely bewildered by it.

"Here." Shikamaru held out a small box as he looked the other way. Sakura accepted it fondly and opened it to find a bracelet with a little music note as a charm.

"This is really thoughtful."

Sasuke tuned them out when she and Shikamaru began to have a chat about the symbolic meaning behind the bracelet.

"Yo." He blinked when Ino snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Where's your present?"

"He probably didn't get me one," Sakura said. "He never gets anyone anything. Right, Sasuke?" She was leaning against him again, like he was some close friend or big brother or _something_—it was kind of unnerving, actually. Just who did she think he was?

"Just something small," he told her with a smirk. He took his gift—the last one in the pile—and gave it to her. It was cheap and he was sure it would make her happy—so it was all good.

An unfamiliar feeling welled up in him when she unwrapped the wrapping with care and her entire face lit up. He had gotten her a hardcover copy of _Out of Tune_, and on the title page, his elegant cursive wrote:

_Sakura,_

_Happy twenty-sixth. I'll treat you to ice cream sometime._

_Sasuke_

When writing the message, he was tempted to add something like "Love," before his name, but that might've ended up in something disastrous. Simplicity was best. Of course.

"You're the best!" she squealed, throwing her arms around him awkwardly and burying her face into his arm. "You're my favorite author—and now I have a personalized message, signature _and_ high-quality book from you! _And_ you're one of my closest friends! You're the _best_!"

"I know," he said smugly. The smirk on his lips was undeniable. He felt thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Act like an adult, please." Shikamaru yawned. "You just turned twenty-six."

Giggling, Sakura straightened up. "Sorry. Random outburst of complete and utter joy." Something else Sasuke prided himself in was Sakura's expanded vocabulary since she met him. She even sounded intelligent outside of the hospital now. And it only made her more attractive.

**x**

When it was finally two in the morning and they decided to leave Ino to her beauty sleep, Sakura looked like she was ready to drop dead.

"D'you guys have a way home?" Shikamaru asked with a particularly loud yawn. Naruto was already out cold on the couch, snoring loudly with a line of drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

"We took the bus here," Sasuke said, glancing out the window. Perhaps he could find a taxi—but if worse came to worse, they'd walk. Sakura could crash at his place tonight. He should've drove—but they came from Sakura's place, so he didn't have his car with him.

Shikamaru shrugged. "I have my car—if you'd like, I could give you guys a ride."

"If it isn't too much trouble."

"Not really. Just as long as I don't have to carry _him_." He pointed his thumb to Naruto.

Ino wrinkled her nose. "He's not sleeping over here tonight. If you guys don't take him, I'm kicking him out."

After setting his lips into a frown, Sasuke strode over to the blonde and promptly kicked him in the gut. He felt some sick sort of satisfaction coming from that. The only reaction he got from Naruto was a spontaneous snore before rolling onto the floor with a loud thump.

And snoring again.

Scowling, Sasuke kneeled down and took Naruto's arm, draping it around his shoulders. He motioned to Sakura with his head. "Do you have all of your gifts?"

Sakura nodded sleepily. "I think so."

"Then let's go."

Sasuke threw Naruto mercilessly into the passenger seat of Shikamaru's jeep and stuffed his legs in so he would fit, before slamming the door and climbing into the back with Sakura. She already had her eyes closed and her head lolled a little to the side.

"Can I borrow your shoulder?" she mumbled softly. Before he could respond, though, she already rested her head against it.

So much for asking. (Not that he had a problem with it, really. She could sleep on him forever, if that was what she wanted.)

Sasuke gave Shikamaru his address before settling back comfortably in his seat. He felt a strange sort of satisfaction—like today was one of the best days of his life. He hadn't felt this way since he was eight, and his older brother, Itachi, had gotten him a crate of tomatoes for his birthday.

He vaguely remembered a scene like this out of _Out of Tune_. Sakura had fallen asleep on him, and he had brought her to his house and allowed her to sleep in his bed. She woke up with his scent on his pillows, along with the smell of coffee and eggs coming from the kitchen. Much to his dismay, he had written a lot of pointless "fluff" into this book, so it was about twice the size of his regular novels. But he just couldn't find it in himself to take those scenes out.

"Thanks," he told Shikamaru when he stopped in front of his apartment. He nudged Sakura. "Wake up. We're here."

She groaned incomprehensibly before stretching her legs. "Five more minutes…"

"No. Get up."

"You're a jerk." But she sat up anyway, and gathered her things before following Sasuke out of the car. His shoulder felt oddly cold—as if her head belonged there to keep it warm. Frowning, he turned away and made his way into the apartment, not waiting for Sakura to say her goodbyes to Shikamaru.

"Wait for me…" Her voice trailed off as she came to a stop beside him. "Am I staying over tonight?"

"Unless you want to go home."

She paused. "No, not really."

The rode up the elevator in silence, all the way up to the top—to his penthouse. Sasuke took Sakura's belongings from her hands and promptly placed them by the couch. "Go to the bathroom," he instructed her.

"Yes, sir…" And she trudged out of his sight.

Sakura had slept over so many times that she had her own toiletries in his bathroom. He even had one t-shirt and pair of boxers designated to her as her pajamas. Once he thought about it, it was a little ridiculous.

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He pulled out the black t-shirt and navy boxers that she usually wore and placed them on his bed before gathering his own pajamas and preparing the couch bed.

The running of water stopped in the bathroom and Sakura was out again, eyes only half open. Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Go to my room and sleep."

"Thanks, Sasuke," she mumbled, although he could only hear half of it.

When she woke up the next morning, he hoped she'd notice his smell on the pillows—and he hoped he'd be up before her to make her coffee and eggs.

**x**

Sakura pulled at her dress nervously—the one she got from Ino. "Are you sure I look okay?"

"Fine." Sasuke pulled at his dress shirt. It felt too tight. He was wearing jeans with his outfit—something that Sakura had insisted looked "fabulous" on him—but despite the semiformal wear, he felt a little constrained. "And me?" he mocked, smirking at her.

She actually took his question seriously, though. "You look too uptight." Reaching out to him, he stiffened when her fingers touched the collar where his hand had been just moments before. "Relax a little." After unbuttoning the top button, she smiled weakly. "There."

"You look a little pale," he pointed out to her.

"You always look pale," she shot back, green eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura, you're on in two minutes!" a voice shouted. Sakura took a deep breath at this, and flattened her dress for the umpteenth time.

He grabbed her wrist. "Stop fidgeting."

"But I'm nervous!" Pulling herself from his grip, she shuffled over to one of the mirrors of the large dressing room, fixing her hair. "Performing in front of an audience, I can handle, but actually talking and answering questions—that's different! I'm not almighty like you!"

"Stop shouting, Sakura. I can hear you."

"Yeah, well, deal with it!"

"You're annoying."

"You're the one who brought me along!"

"I regret it."

Her head whipped around, eyes widened momentarily in surprise. "Yeah, well, you know what?" Turning around and stomping over to him in her loud heels, her lips curled into a frown. "Me too."

He scowled at this. "You're being unreasonable."

"And _you're_ being an asshole!"

"Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura, you're on!"

At least some color returned to her face due to her frustration, Sasuke thought as he turned swiftly on his feet and strode through the door that led to the conference room, chin held up high like a proper Uchiha. He could hear Sakura click-clacking behind him, but he didn't dare to look back. It was a sign of inferiority.

Cameras flashed and people applauded as they sat at the long rectangular table with microphones already set on it. Sasuke was used to it to a certain extent, but he could imagine Sakura with wide eyes, looking petrified. He tapped the microphone in front of him once to check if it was working, and he saw Sakura do the same with shaky hands out of his peripheral vision.

She was so goddamn _stubborn_.

His scowl remained set on his features even when the flashes from the cameras stopped, and the talking died down to just murmurs.

He waited. She waited. They all waited.

Finally, one man was courageous enough to ask the first. He had lazy stance when he stood up, his silver hair unruly and in a big need of a haircut. "Uchiha-san, what is your overall impression if your newest novel? Do you feel that it deserves the publicity it has?"

"I don't deny that it's a good piece," he said smoothly, "but I don't find it superior to my other works." He could feel Sakura tensing beside him for obvious reasons—or maybe not so obvious reasons.

He could predict what she'd say if they were alone. _"There's nothing outstanding about it because there's nothing outstanding about _me_."_ She'd glare and be angry at him until he bought her ice cream, or did something with her like make music or watch Grey's Anatomy.

They'd had numerous arguments in these past two years. But they always made up.

"And Haruno-san," the same silver-haired reporter said, "How do you feel, being the main character of this 'not superior' book?"

"I don't feel it affects me all that much." Her voice was shaky, but steely. "I've been average all my life—it's only natural that a book that I'm in is average as well." His book wasn't _average_. In relation to his other books, sure, but to the books by other authors, it was spectacular. He couldn't tell her that right now, though. And even if he could, he wouldn't.

"You don't feel offended at all?"

"I was the one who told him to stop making me perfect." She laughed sarcastically. "When you see me, do you think my eyes are shining emerald orbs? I'm not amazing like Uchiha-san here." His eyes narrowed at the way she addressed. He didn't like it coming form her lips at all.

"Uchiha-san," another reporter said, standing up. "Throughout the course of your books, we have always found some similarities between certain characters. An example would be the male protagonist from _The Seamstress_ almost seeming to be the same person as the father in _Five Petals_. However, your male antagonist from _Out of Tune_ is someone completely new. Is there a reason for it?"

After this, Sasuke decided, he was _never_ having a press conference again. This was why he hated reporters.

"I tend to base my main characters off of people I know. It's easier to write that way."

"Then who is this new character based off of?"

"No one." A grim smirk spread across his lips. "I decided to try my hand at creating me own. Please tell me, Reporter-san—how did I do?"

"W-Well…" It was clear this reporter didn't even open his book; she was just given a bunch of questions to ask. "I found he was very…enchanting." All of his male characters were enchanting. It was a trait of his works.

"I found he was a rather boring character," someone said from the back. "The only change in him was his feelings that were growing at the rate a snail moves. Not well-rounded at all."

His jaw clenched. Of course he wasn't a well-rounded character. He was Uchiha Sasuke. He didn't _change_; he was constant, and he kept moving forward. He never looked back.

"Haruno-san, do you feel that you could be romantically involved with someone like the male antagonist?"

"Absolutely not," she retorted without hesitation. "He's portrayed to be rude, obnoxious, and emotionally constipated." Emotionally constipated? So _that_ was how she saw him? "I'd call him asexual, too, but he proved that point wrong."

It was official. Sasuke hated press conferences.

**x**

"_Why_," she hissed, "are you being such a stubborn jackass?"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Why," he said slowly in retaliation, "are women so annoying?"

"We're only annoying to you, because you don't have an ounce of patience in you!" He would've snapped at her right then and there, but Uchiha Sasuke was known for being silent and apathetic. So he did what he did best: be indifferent. "You…!"

"If you're displeased with me, you don't have to see me again." His tone was grim. "You're not bound to a life with me."

"Good! Stop the car!"

And that he did. Right in the middle of the busy road. It was a miracle that the car behind him didn't crash into him, but it didn't matter anyway; the driver's insurance would cover the damage.

"Get out."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"_What?_"

"I said, get out." His jaw clenched and his whole body tensed, because _no_, he didn't _want_ her to go—he never wanted her to leave and he _wanted_ her to be bound to a life with him—

"Fine. I'll—I'll go." After a few seconds of shuffling of her gathering her belongings, she opened the door and stepped out, right into the bustling traffic.

He waited for a couple of moments just to be safe, before he punched the steering wheel. His car let out a blaring honk, just like the other cars around him that told him to get a move on. He was tempted to look out the window and check if she made it to the sidewalk safely, but his dignity told him otherwise.

_Don't look back._

He drove forward, always keeping his eyes ahead.

_Don't ever look back._

_

* * *

_09-13-09: ahhh m00kie, how did you do on your history? I GOT 62%! HOLY SHIZNITS, I PASSED. (i bet you did 873492 times better. ;)


	4. F major

.**c**_h_ap**t**_e_r t**h**r_e_e— F major

Life without Sakura was a dreary one indeed.

Sasuke returned to his regular routines. Starbucks once a week, brainstorming for his new novel. Lunch with Naruto whenever the blonde invited him out, and having dinner with his family every Friday.

And somehow, it was so…_bland_. Boring. Dull.

So…not Sakura.

For the past two years, there wasn't a week when he hadn't seen her. If they didn't meet face to face, she'd text or call him, or even e-mail him. There wasn't a day without Sakura.

But now—now, it was too quiet. Too normal.

Too Sasuke.

When did he become so dependent on her?

This was why women were so annoying. They just weaseled their way into your minds and your daily routines, until you couldn't stop thinking about them. And it just got so bothersome, because—because he missed her, and he wanted to talk to her, and why wasn't she just here with him—

"Hey." Sasuke was pulled from his reverie when he found Shikamaru sliding into the seat next to him. "I heard from Sakura that you usually come here on Tuesday afternoons."

"Hn."

It was pathetic how he was reduced back to monosyllabic responses due to the lack of a single woman.

"I have places to go to, so I'm going to get straight to the point." Shikamaru gestured towards him. "You're going to need to grow some patience."

"Are you doing this on behalf of Sakura?"

"Yes. Troublesome woman."

"Is she too afraid to face me herself?"

"Actually," Shikamaru turned away and stared at some random spot on the roof, "she's been working almost full time at the hospital lately. You know she works in the ER, right? They're running low on staff. But she figured you'd go crazy if you went too long without her—don't give me that look. She told me to tell you that you know she's right." Sasuke scowled. "She said something like you drowning yourself in black coffee with two creams and a blank document and very possibly ramen and never come out of your hermit home again, and that she was worried."

He grunted. "Worried, my ass." He found it highly offensive, how she thought he couldn't manage on his own. He did it perfectly fine before he met her, so he could do it perfectly fine _after_ he met her.

"She told me to tell you to drop by sometime so you guys could sort things out. She said there were legal documents involved."

"Hn."

…There were legal documents involved?

"That's all I have to say." Shikamaru glanced at his watch. "And now I have to meet up with another troublesome woman." He sounded so tired—tired, just like Sasuke.

"Ino?"

"Is there any other?"

After sharing a grim smile, Shikamaru sauntered out the door. Sasuke heaved a sigh and stared at his blank document, and then his black coffee with two creams. Then he contemplated on having ramen with Naruto—at least it'd take his mind off things. Or he could just go home, sleep, and never wake up.

Then, vaguely horrified, he realized that Sakura was right. About everything she said.

Females were a bit frightening, if not completely. Or maybe it was just Sakura.

Leaving his unfinished coffee on the table, he packed away his laptop and stalked outside. He tossed his bag into the passenger seat of his car carelessly before driving off, going nowhere in particular. This was one of the effective ways of clearing his head—for writing, usually—and getting into the right mindset.

What did Sakura know? Sakura knew nothing. She knew nothing about him. There was nothing _to_ know.

He was Uchiha Sasuke. He wasn't going to be pulled down by some mere woman.

His grip tightened on the wheel, and he pressed harder on the pedal, speeding up. Although everything else seemed to drift from his mind, the one thing he wanted gone the most wouldn't leave.

And the disappointing thing was that, after writing numerous romance novels, he knew that the chances of it leaving were slim to none.

Sasuke turned a sharp corner, scowling when he heard his tires screeching against the road. A few honks were heard, and he honked right back at them. He wasn't in the mood to deal with people. His scowl only deepened when he looked straight ahead and found that another car was driving straight towards him.

Stupid people. Shouldn't they learn how to drive in the right lanes?

He didn't slow down for that driver—why should he? He continued at his pace of sixty kilometers per hour, nearly cursing out loud when the car heading towards him wasn't slowing down either. That arrogant bastard—

Sasuke only realized after they crashed that he was the arrogant bastard in the wrong lane.

**x**

When he came to, he was hacking and coughing. Not a very pleasant way to wake up.

"We got a response!"

"Alright, now ventilate him!" Something was shoved over his mouth, and he forced his eyes open to see who dared do that to him. It hurt to breathe—it was like his entire abdomen was cracking in two.

The first thing he saw was a head of pink hair, and the name instinctively left his lips. "Sakura." His voice was muffled by the mask on his mouth, and it almost felt like the air was being forced down his airway, each breath more painful than the last.

She didn't respond with one of her breezy smiles and her light chatter—she didn't respond at all. "I'll take him to the OR," she said to someone out of his line of vision.

"What's happening—" He was in the middle of demanding before he coughed and hacked again, pain shooting up his chest.

"I'd suggest you not to talk or move, Sasuke," Sakura said, voice low as she pushed his bed down a hallway. She was dressed in a white coat, her hair messily tied up in a ponytail. The bags under her eyes were even worse than his. Shikamaru wasn't lying when he said she was working nonstop for the past while. "Breathe as shallowly as possible."

"Saku—" But he was passed on to other doctors and pushed into another room.

She didn't even look back. Didn't even give him one last lingering gaze before she backed off—she just turned around and walked away.

Was she always like this when working, or was it because it was him? Or both?

"Uchiha Sasuke, we're going to perform an operation," a faintly familiar voice told him, although he couldn't see the person. _Neji,_ he thought before it left his mind as soon as it came. "As you may or may not remember, you were involved in a serious car accident. It resulted in the breaking of two ribs and a fracture in your arm. One of your ribs is dangerously close to puncturing your lung. We're going to fix it. All right?"

He grunted—and grunted again, due to the pain from the first grunt.

"We're going to give you some oxygen now, to knock you out. When you wake up, it'll be over."

When everything went black, he dreamt of green eyes lighting everything up and pink hair tied back into a ponytail.

**x**

"I could request a day or two off for you. Tsunade-sama would understand."

"I don't need a break."

"You've been working for three days straight. The only breaks you took were the fifteen-minute ones in the cafeteria with shitty coffee from the vending machine."

"I'm female, Neji. I'm invincible."

Snort. "Bullshit."

Sasuke frowned faintly at the conversation, but didn't dare open his eyes. If Sakura knew he was awake, then maybe she'd leave. He hadn't heard her voice in so long—as creepy as it was, he just wanted to lie there and listen. Listen, and try to predict what she'd say next, like a game. Sasuke had always liked games like that.

"Look. Sasuke—Sasuke's the worst I've ever seen him. I want to be working while he's still here."

"He's out of critical condition."

"Yes, but—it's complicated. I just don't want to be here as a visitor. If I drop by, I…I want an excuse."

Pause. "You two are in a fight."

"Something of the sort."

"A lover's spat."

"No! Even you're believing what Ino-pig's saying?"

So there were rumors about them? Interesting.

"Only to a certain extent. I believe what I can see."

"Are you saying you're seeing more than I am? Because, Neji, please, enlighten me—Sasuke and I are nothing more than friends. And"—her voice dropped a little—"it doesn't look like we're going to grow into anything more."

"So you admit to fancying him."

"Doesn't every woman, though? And did you just use the word _fancy_?"

"But you care about Sasuke on a more meaningful scale."

"Please stop talking. What you're saying is frighteningly accurate."

"Sasuke and I are both men—"

"Yes, I realize that, despite both of your feminine features."

"And we are both the same species of men."

"That's awkward."

"It's your choice whether or not you believe me, but Sakura…" Pause. Sasuke stiffened under his sheets, almost angry with the Hyuuga that he barely knew. "He cares. It shows it in the little things, doesn't he?"

Snort. "Don't ask me. I can't read his mind. Or yours, for that matter. Or any of male of the…same species."

"There are things I'm sure he'll let you get away with that he wouldn't let anyone else get away with." There was a beeping sound coming from the direction of Neji and Sakura's voices, before it stopped. "I have to go—but just think about it. He cares."

"False hope sucks, Neji. That's why I don't want to think about it."

"Your loss, then." Sasuke heard the door open and close, before silence met his ears. Sasuke suddenly felt strangely charged—like he wanted to write. He wasn't sure _what_, but he wanted to write. Write, because God knew—hell, _everyone_ knew—that it made up for the lack of emotions in his life.

He had been aware of how Sakura felt towards him about half a year into their…friendship? Companionship? He wasn't sure what it was. Knowing about it was one thing. Returning it was another. But now—_now_, Sakura knew that her feelings were mutual. And even if she didn't quite believe Neji, she was given a little shove in the right direction. And that was enough to scare Sasuke right back into his hermit home.

"You sound so confident about the fact that your feelings are unrequited." Sasuke nearly choked on his own words; his voice was raspy, and if he didn't know better, he'd think it was someone else talking. "And yet, you were sure that I'd be hopeless without you, and sent Shikamaru to give me a message." He finally opened his eyes, and saw the woman that had been by his side for the last two years.

"S-Sasuke! You were awake?" She sounded flustered and—although he hated the word all the way to hell—cute.

"Hn." He kept his eyes steadily on her—he knew that intimidated her. Whenever he did that, she'd always look away. However, this time, bright green eyes hardened in something that might've been called professionalism as she strode up to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, almost as if on autopilot.

"Hn."

"I don't understand your one-word responses, you know."

"Fine."

She fixed the numerous amounts of flowers that were on his bedside table—given to him, no doubt, from women he didn't even know. "You're to stay in the hospital for the rest of the week. We still need to run you through some tests, and you also need some rest."

He scowled. An entire week without his laptop? Without his family dinner? Without Naruto and his ramen? What kind of week would that be?

"Don't give me that look. You were the one who was driving in the wrong lane."

He was tempted to snap at her and ask whose fault that was, but thought better of himself. Always that talkative one, she was. Frowning, he looked away from her. There was a silence as her hands came back to a rest at her sides. A beeping, not unfamiliar to the one he heard before, sounded. Sakura pulled a device out of the pocket of her coat before pushing a button, stopping the sound. "I have to work. I'll check up on you later."

He wanted to know what she meant by _check up_. He wished she'd turn back into the normal Sakura.

_His_ Sakura.

**x**

Sasuke didn't think he'd ever been so glad to see Naruto in his life.

"Teme!"

He smirked. "Dobe."

Naruto stalked up to Sasuke, who was propped up against his pillows. His arm was reeled back to punch him, but for once, Sasuke didn't scowl. He was too exhausted to. Or maybe, something inside him told him deserved it. Although he didn't know what he deserved it for.

"Oi, Naruto, he's already in a hospital bed!" Ino appeared from the doorway and restrained him. "Don't you think that's enough?"

Clearly angry, Naruto turned around to face Ino. "Do _you_ think that's enough, after seeing Sakura-chan?"

"Well, he could've died," Shikamaru said, walking lazily into the room. "I heard from Neji that if he'd shifted in the wrong way before the operation, a rib could've pierced his lung and he would've suffocated."

"What happened to Sakura?" Sasuke asked, tone demanding. He was ignored, though.

"That bastard _should_ die," Naruto shot back.

"Well, that _was_ the most crying I've ever seen her do," Ino said thoughtfully. "But I wouldn't want Sasuke dead because of it."

"What about _after_ she collapsed?"

Sasuke sat up immediately, sending a sting of pain to where his chest was opened for the operation. "Sakura collapsed?" So where was she now? Was she resting? She was probably being stupid and working again. This wasn't the first time she'd collapsed from overworking herself.

"Well"—Ino looked like she was in a fix—"Sasuke's so pretty—I mean—he's so nice—well, not really—"

"Shut _up_, Ino." Naruto turned around and stalked towards Sasuke again. "Are you happy, teme? You and your asexual habits make Sakura-chan cry, and then you make her go overwork herself and you get yourself into a goddamn car crash and make her worry like _shit_ and now she's not talking to anyone—are you fucking happy? Huh?"

Sasuke suddenly found the wall very interesting.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" He had never heard Ino use that tone of voice with him. "Sakura deserves some respect."

"Says the person who calls her Forehead more than half of the time."

"She and I both know where the line is."

Sasuke kept his gaze steady on Ino. "My entire character is like this. What made you think I found Sakura special?"

Ino must've had some experience in this area, because by the time he realized that she'd slapped him, her hand had already returned to her side as a clenched fist. His cheek stung more than it should've from a simple slap, but he was determined to keep what dignity he had left.

"Because Sakura _is_ special," she hissed, tears brimming in her eyes before turning on her heel and stalking out. Shikamaru sighed wearily, muttering something about troublesome women, and followed her.

He could feel Naruto's eyes on him.

"You really do care, don't you?" his (still self-proclaimed, Sasuke reminded himself) best friend asked softly.

_More than you could ever imagine._

**x**

Let's face it—there was nothing to do at a hospital.

Naruto decided to make himself useful for once and brought Sasuke's laptop and Sakura's old guitar from his apartment over so he could at least keep himself occupied and distracted (from both Sakura and the nasty hospital food) for a week.

Sasuke had started to write his new book during this time. It was a sequel to _Out of Tune_ (because he honestly couldn't think of anything else to write). It was in the point of view of the male antagonist this time, and instead of a thriller-romance genre, it was just plain romance. Because all he could think about when it came to anything related to this book was Sakura.

Only Sakura.

He wasn't sure if he'd publish it, though. As of right now, it was more of a stress reliever than anything.

He also practiced the guitar. He looked up the chords for _You and Me_, _Wonderwall_, and _Yellow_. Maybe it'd make Sakura happy. Or maybe not.

When he was discharged, the first thing he did after going home and cleaning up was go downtown, take Sakura's old, beat up guitar and play it while leaning against the brick wall of a building. Singing.

Who would've thought the day would've come when Sasuke would be making music on the streets.

It was probably Sakura's influence. Everything was her fault. His mixed up feelings, his drastic mood swings, his—his reason for actually getting out of the house more than he usually did—

'_Cause maybe, you're going to be the one that saves me—and after all, you're my wonderwall._

Although he wasn't planning on making any profit out of this, people were throwing coins and bills into his guitar case. People—mostly females, but whatever—were gathering around him with dreamy looks. He usually wasn't one for attention, but somehow, this was different.

He hated the way everything in his life sounded so cliché and lame. It wasn't before he met Sakura. That wretched woman.

_There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how._

Everything he was right now—this guitar playing, singing stranger on the streets—she made him. The author of one of the most heart-throbbing romance novels of all time, the person who treated her to ice cream and went to parks in the middle of winter with her—Sasuke, and _just Sasuke_—she made him.

"_Sasuke?_"

His eyes shot open—he didn't even remember closing them—to meet emerald green eyes.

Everything that he wanted to say to her—_I miss you, I'm sorry, I love you, I love you, I _love_ you_—got stuck in his mouth. The girl he wanted to spend his days with was right here, and he was in perfect condition to tell her everything that would make the world _perfect_—but he couldn't.

_One of the things that I want to say just isn't coming out right. I'm tripping on words; you've got my head spinning—I don't know where to go from here._

"What are you _doing_ here?"

He stopped singing, but the guitar continued. He could feel his insides turning to mush—he could _feel_ that soft spot for this pink-haired doctor grow by the moment—and he wasn't sure what to say.

"Shouldn't you be resting? I heard you overworked yourself." He paused. "Again."

"Well"—Sakura still looked completely flabbergasted—"I'm better now. I just had lunch with Ino. Shouldn't _you_ be doing something other than…this, though?"

"Hn."

_And it's you and me, and all other people, and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you._

"When did you get so good at the guitar?"

"I never improved. I just learned more songs."

"I think you got better."

The words _thank you_ were just itching to leave his mouth, but he hadn't said those words in years. "Hn. I spent too long without doing something that reminded me of you." _That reminded me of how happy we were together. How painfully perfect we are for each other._ He hoped it wasn't being too out of character. He wanted to be able to tell her what he meant. What _she_ meant. To him. So maybe, that way, they wouldn't get in an argument ever again.

A blush spread across her cheeks, and some of the crowd began to die away at this. Most of them probably just wanted a lay, anyway. "Well—thanks, I guess. How have…you been?"

He stopped playing, letting the guitar hang on the strap around him. "I've been better."

"Oh. Well, I—" She looked around, and stepped over so she leaned against the wall beside him. "Ino's been setting me up on a couple of…blind dates." Sasuke stiffened.

There were still a lot of grey areas when it came to this topic between them. He wasn't sure if it was something he wanted to face now. Or ever. "Ino's quite vicious," he finally decided to say.

She laughed. "Oh, yeah, I heard from Naruto. Was that the first time you've ever been slapped by a girl?"

"Second, actually."

"Really? Who was the first?"

A faint memory of a girl with glasses and flaming red hair flashed behind his eyelids. "I'd rather not think about it."

"So even you've had your ups downs."

"Everyone has."

Sakura's gaze fell fondly onto the guitar he had strapped on. "Do you want to…do a duet?"

"I only know so many love songs," he told her wryly. He gently strummed the strings of the guitar aimlessly. It felt a little different, for him to be the one holding the instrument, when she was usually the one playing.

"We should write one!" Suddenly, her eyes were sparkling. "Let's make our own album!"

He snorted. "I highly doubt I hold enough talent. Music is not my forte."

"Hah. Nice play on words there."

"Hn." Stepping away from the wall and backing away from her, he thought for a moment. Their eyes locked as he began to strum some chords, and he felt a strange feeling surge through him. Maybe he couldn't tell her how he felt—but maybe he could show her.

_Look at the stars—look how they shine for you, and everything you do._

He liked the way the blush spread evenly across her cheeks as she looked away. Suddenly, he felt confident again. Normal again. Knowing that he could have anyone at his feet in an instant. The guitar felt natural in his hands—maybe all of that practicing actually paid off—

He heard a couple of people say "Aw," in the crowd, and a smirk tugged at his lips. Sakura was searching for a place to look—anywhere but him.

"Embarrassed?" he taunted during an interlude. Her head snapped back up, and she glared at him.

"You're the one who sounds terrible!"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Really."

"Really."

_You know, you know I love you so…You know I love you so._

Sasuke never thought that there'd be a day when he'd serenade someone—but he supposed there was a first for everything. It was a fulfilling feeling. Was this what Sakura felt when she performed?

As he played, he made his way closer to her. She only stepped back once, fiddling with her fingers nervously. His voice softened as he leaned over her, their faces almost too close for his liking—but at the same time, he couldn't get enough of it. It would be so simple to close the rest of that space, but—

He pulled away. She blinked in surprise. He couldn't even find it in him to smirk. He was sure he looked somewhat like Naruto—clueless and stupid—and hurried to close his mouth.

It was that moment that Sakura's face lit up, almost as if she came to an epiphany. She turned around and made her way through the small crowd of people that had gathered around him. He stopped playing, frowning. Everyone turned around to watch where she was going.

If she was running away from his subtle confession, he would kill her the next time he saw her—

"Uchiha Sasuke!" His frown deepened when he saw that she had clambered onto the ledge of a nearby fountain. By now, people were muttering to others about his identity.

Tch. Stupid girl. She was attracting attention.

"There are so many things I hate about you!" As if she could be any louder. She cupped her hands around her mouth as an amplifier. "You can't hold a conversation, you're stubborn, you have too much pride, and you're not considerate at all!" He could feel his growing anger. Of all places to point out his flaws. They weren't even _flaws_—it was just how he was. "And I hate the way you're so pretty"—_pretty_?—"and how whenever I get mad at you, all you have to is buy me ice cream to forgive you." Her expression softened at this.

His hands that were previously clenched into fists loosened a little. "Sakura, get down."

"Make me!" There was just something about the way that determination shone in her eyes.

"Don't make me come over there."

After sticking her tongue out childishly, she cupped her hands around her mouth again. "And you're always so demanding and obnoxious, and you think you can control my life and that you can bend me to your every will—well, you know what?" She paused then, and Sasuke, who was halfway to the fountain, stopped. "You probably could. 'Cause I think somewhere between the arguments and the ice cream and inconsideration, I fell in love with you."

And Sasuke was left completely speechless for once in his life. His jaw tightened, and he felt like he was the luckiest, happiest man on earth. Because Haruno Sakura just confessed to him. Albeit, stupidly, standing on a fountain and in public—but she still did.

And it was more than what he could ever do.

"Hn." His ears must've been flaming red by now. "I said, get down."

She hopped down gleefully, cheeks flushed and beaming. "Sasuke, you're the best!" She then proceeded to pounce on him, despite the large instrument between them.

"Oi—your guitar…!" He attempted to push her off of him. "And I never said I returned your feelings."

"But they _are_ returned, right?" Her bright expression seemed infallible. "If they weren't, you would've left already. You wouldn't still be here." Even after two years, Sasuke was amazed with how well she read his actions. She really knew him more than he gave her credit for.

He paused. "Hn." His eyes widened when she leaned towards him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Shoving her away, he scowled. "Don't touch me, you annoying woman."

He had to turn away to hide the first smile that'd graced his lips in years.

**x**

"This is our story," Sasuke said in a business-like manner. "Our fairytale, to put in simpler terms. And this isn't our happily ever after"—he looked at her evenly, and she swallowed, mesmerized by how even his gaze was—"this is…" He paused or dramatic effect. It worked.

"This is…?" she probed, voice barely over a whisper.

"This is our once upon a time."

**

* * *

notes:** haha whaaat?! i was reading this over and making sure everything was okay—then i realized that this is the last chapter!

i'm sad. but just a little. because i'm writing another multi-chaptered sasusaku! hahaha, i don't know if i'll ever finish/post it, but it sates my hunger for multi-chaptered sasusakus. so you can pray for me to finish, or you can do better things with your life.

(like review.)

i hope you guys enjoyed this fic! :)


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